


convenient parking (is way back, way back)

by aces_low



Series: drabbles and ish [16]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Barely a fight, Canon Disabled Character, Expensive Produce, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11380266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aces_low/pseuds/aces_low
Summary: “Yeah, plenty of guys like you have a tag, but look at you, you clearly don’t need it. Move your car,” the smaller man says, marching himself right up to the other man. And Bill lands on ‘stupid’ as to what’s keeping this guy going.“Don’t know what your problem is, buddy. I’m allowed to park there,” the hot guy, who may have an illegal handicap parking tag hanging from his rearview mirror, says.Guarnere watches a good-looking stranger get into a fight over a handicap parking spot.





	convenient parking (is way back, way back)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt asking for more BillToye content.
> 
> Idea taken from something I saw on Feed the Bunny months and months ago.
> 
> Title from Modest Mouse's Convenient Parking, because trying to come up with a title all I could think about was this song so...
> 
>  
> 
> Not meant to be a portrayal of the real men, characters just based on the HBO series

This is based off a prompt that I saw ages ago on Feed the Bunny (I think) that I’ve been wanting to write since I first saw it. My initial thought had been that it would go well with Luztoye, which is would. But I’m pretty sure it works even better for BillToye.

 

  
Bill frowns down at his receipt.

He’s sure that the sale tag had said tomatoes were $2.95 a pound. He’d been thrilled, and maybe grabbed a few more than he normally would have, but that was a steal and he couldn’t pass that up. Now, looking at the receipt, it looks like the cashier ran them for their regular price.

He weighs the pros and cons of going back for his six-cent refund, but ultimately decides it’s not worth it, he has ice cream that’s already starting to melt in his bag.

He’s still grumpily regretting the amount of tomatoes he’s purchased as he walks out of the store and hears a loud, “hey!”

Bill looks around, because that ‘hey’ had sounded fairly aggressive, and if someone is yelling at him he doesn’t want to get caught off guard.

He doesn’t see anyone with their attention on him though when he hears “hey!” again.

This time he spots a guy, fast-walking his way to another who has just slammed his car door shut.

The one getting yelled at either doesn’t hear him, or is blatantly ignoring him as he keeps walking toward the door of the store.

“Hey, you can’t park there!” The fast-walking man exclaims as he comes up on the man who is ignoring him.

Bill watches in rapt attention, unable to tear his eyes away, wanting to see what will happen. He’s already making bets in his mind as to how this is going to play out. The approaching man is either brave or stupid, because he’s a good deal shorter and isn’t nearly as muscular as the other man appears to be. He’s also way less good-looking, but Bill’s pragmatic enough to never let that influence how he bets, even if it is only in his mind. It’s just a happy coincidence that the guy he’d bet on is hot. Like…really hot.

“’ve got a tag,” the really hot guy says. Though Bill has to strain to hear his words, as they come out quiet and rough.

Bill looks at where the guy has parked, trying to figure out what all the fuss is about. He sees a handicapped parking sign in front of the guy’s car and realizes that’s what has this other man in such a tizzy.

“Yeah, plenty of guys like you have a tag, but look at you, you clearly don’t need it. Move your car,” the smaller man says, marching himself right up to the other man. And Bill lands on ‘stupid’ as to what’s keeping this guy going.

“Don’t know what your problem is, buddy. I’m allowed to park there,” the hot guy, who may have an illegal handicap parking tag hanging from his rearview mirror, says.

Bill is shocked that he’s even still talking to the smaller man, he’d pegged the guy as someone who swung first and asked questions later, but maybe Bill had just been projecting.

“Move your car! It’s delinquents like you that are ruining society!”

Tall, dark and handsome laughs, it’s fake and his eyes are dark and it makes a throaty sound that does things to Bill’s stomach and Bill inches his way over toward the arguing men, just so he doesn’t miss anything with how low the guy talks.

“I’m allowed to park there,” the guy says again, his dark eyes piercing, Bill can tell that and they’re not even directed at him.

The other guy does seem to cower a little and take a step back, but he doesn’t back down completely, and Bill is sure he has a death wish now.

“I’m calling the police, you’ll have your car towed and you’ll be fined. I hope that ten feet of less walking was worth it.”

Bill half expects the hot one to just grab the stupid guy and smash his head against the wall of the building, instead he does something strange, that both Bill and the stupid guy don’t understand at first.

Instead of stepping forward, the hot guy takes a step back and leans against the wall. He starts grabbing at his pant legs and his hands are moving so fast and forcefully that Bill, for a moment, thinks the guy is just about to pull down his pants – and wouldn’t that just put a wrench in Bill’s whole betting process, he hadn’t thought to consider that the hot guy might just be crazy. Instead of pulling his pants down though, Bill tries to comprehend what he’s seeing as he watches the guy pull his leg up in a direction his leg shouldn’t ever be able to bend.

It’s only when the guy is holding onto the ankle of the leg that Bill realizes he’s holding a prosthetic leg that used to be where the right leg of his pants is now hanging limp.

The other man only has time to widen his eyes before the leg is being swung in his direction, and he nearly falls backwards in an attempt to dodge the leg that is being wielded like a sword.

“You gonna call the cops now, asshole?” the guy growls, hopping away from his perch against the wall as he swings his prosthetic leg violently at the other man.

The other man yelps and ducks out of the way, but barely, clearly losing all the nerve that he’d had when accusing the other guy for his parking choices.

Bill, for his part, has to lean against a shelf of plants that are on display to hold himself up from how hard he’s started laughing at the scene in front of him. He wishes he’d had the foresight to start filming this, but he could have never guessed that this is where this argument would lead to. He’s just thrilled he gets to witness it, and plans to relay it to his friends for years to come.

Finally, the smaller man realizes that the best option for him is to just run away, because without another word, including an apology, he turns and runs back toward his own car.

Legless and handsome huffs in annoyance as he watches the man run, but doesn’t seem to care enough to hop his way after him. Though Bill believes he absolutely could if he wanted to.

Instead, he makes his way back to his car, leaning against it as he opens the door and sits in the front seat.

The door is still open, so Bill wipes the tears from his eyes and makes his way over.

The guy looks to be struggling to pull his prosthetic back through the leg of his pants, but he still is aware enough to snap his head up as Bill approaches.

Holding his hands up, Bill says, “hey man, just wanted to say, that was the best thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

The guy just scowls and goes back to fumbling with his leg, mumbling curses under his breath.

Bill knows enough to not ask the guy if he needs any help, he’s almost sure he’ll get a leg in his face quicker than he can finish the offer.

“Only wish you’d hit him. That’d have been great.”

“Yeah, and then he’d really be able to call the cops on me,” the guy mutters, shifting the leg around.

“Eh, I saw the whole thing, I’d be able to tell ‘em he deserved it. I’m Bill, by the way, Bill Guarnere.”

The guy eyes him for a moment, apparently not sure what to make of Bill, but eventually just shrugs. “Joe,” he grunts out, then looks back down at his leg.

“You wanna get a drink sometime, Joe?” Bill blurts out, before he can worry about the implications of asking a near stranger something like that.

He figures, regardless of Joe’s relationship status and whether or not he’s interested in men, Joe would still probably fit in well with him and his friends.

“What?” Joe asks, clearly not used to random strangers asking him to hang out.

Bill shrugs. “Here, you got a pen?”

Joe continues to just look at him for a moment, before leaning back in his seat and reaching over to the glove compartment. He pulls out a pen and sits back up straight, handing it to Bill.

“I’ll give you my number, if you wanna hangout you can call or text me. If not, no harm done,” Bill offers, turning the receipt around and using Joe’s car as a surface to write his number down for him.

He hands the receipt and pen over to Joe, who still looks confused about this whole situation, and grins.

“I’ll see you around, Joe,” Bill says, stepping back, not waiting for a response.

He’s sure Joe isn’t going to say anything else, and his ice cream is probably soup by now. So, he plays it cool and heads to his car without a backwards glance.

All he can do it hope that Joe decides to call.

 

Later that night, Bill lets out a loud cheer, loud enough to wake Babe, whose been dozing on the couch, when he receives a text from an unknown number that just says, _‘hey, it’s Joe.’_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
